A Blind Sword
by chlorique
Summary: A school for the martials, A Lady too weak to carry even her own weight. And a sword that yearns to once again to kill the mighty Dragons, holder of power of the realm, down from their perch in the sky.
1. Roach

The ever calm head of the house of Rochen is currently experiencing a slight personal crisis. Sweat glisten on his balding head and scattered parchments, letters, and business deals are all over his work table yet none of them are currently related to the little issue he is having. The tea had already gone cold and he wiped away the dusty grim building up on his glasses.

It is almost her 18th birthday. The little runt he took in years ago is almost gone from his side but there is no suitors that stop by, no one to offer her any hidden inheritance and worse of all she is not even fit to throw away to train with the knight squad. For all intent and purposes Avile will be a thorn in his flesh and unless something is to be done quickly he will be force to continue putting up with her for as long as she remains a lady.

His money. His house and her own schooling paid for by him for all those servants and tutoring she had received over the years. He would not have mind it so much had she actually done something to bring fame to the family but all she had accomplished for the 9 years she has been with the family nothing but sickness and maladies each bringing with them more bills and visits to the doctor.

Bless his wife, the strongest woman he had ever seen enduring all that had happened and in fact he suspect the great wife of his had actually dote on the girl.

He wipes away the furious anger forming on his brow but it was not long before he starts panicking once more on what to do. Several sharp knocks on the door comes by and in enters Lady Rochen, his wife and his pillar of support with her practiced hands carrying along a tray of tea. She sense trouble from the look of his face.

"Alright El, what seems to be the problem this time." He hastily clears away the documents on his table and puts them away into drawers, cabinets, or anything within reach.

"Is it 5 already Agnus? My how time passes on so fast. I was just pondering about a certain letter a business associate of mine, if all works well we might get closer to the table of 30." But he knows, she knows. Agnus may be his second wife after Kim fell down the stairs and, snapped her neck, but she does pay attention to the work he does.

"Table of 30, you've always been obsessing over it ever since the day I married you. But what's it going to bring to us besides more responsibilities and hardship? Your sons James and Matthew already had to offer their arms to serve the She, I don't suppose you plan that sort of fate for all of us now." The words did reach into the Kelam Rochen's mind, it was heard, it was interpreted, but it was cast away with a wave of his hand as manic speech and thoughts overtakes him once more.

"That's where you are wrong my dear. The closer we get to the circle of 9 the less work our family needs to do for the She, all it takes is more time and sacrifices but soon! Soon I assure you we won't have to life another finger doing the work of the servant and tending to menial tasks."

Agnus looks away, the tea was a fine blend she had procured from a travelling merchant claiming it had come from the far east and in his claim he even mentioned that it had come as far as Sonya. While she could not verify it herself [and neither does her butler who was with her at that time] she does admit, the tea was excellent. She pours a cup and move everything off the tray. "Well you do what you think needs doing but don't you forget that Avile birthday is coming up soon. Her 18th birthday, felt like it was yesterday she came into our house. Such a sweet girl."

He had almost forgotten, but of course. "Yes, really makes you think how much time had passed. Well dear if you have nothing else to do I have these to attend to." The stacks of document begs for attention, the ones in the drawer silently lament their fate. Like a still living person stuck inside a coffin wanting to be free.

Agnus gives a look but he was not quite sure what it mean, it could be concern but it feels like it was a pitying stare. Wordlessly she left the room leaving him alone once more. He heaves a deep sigh as he thinks again on how to deal with the girl but at the corner of his eye a letter sticks out. Unlike the other letters on his table that are worn with time and shows marks done by the handling on its way here this one however is in pristine condition and even sealed. He has many other work but curiosity takes the better of him and reach out and mutter to himself the name of the sender.

"Lord Rags? Who in the name of the She is him? Headmaster of the School of Swords, what could he possibly want." A fine letter opener knife was fetch somewhere deep in the drawers and he slowly pries the seal off. What the letter present to him was a solution to all of his current problem.


	2. Express Train

_You'll be fine dear, there there. I can see you're worried but say no more. It is your birthday._

 _It says school for the studies of martial and art._

 _Well that simply means you will be enrolling in the art section, no worries my child I am sure you will be fine. You always do._

Words that came out of her mouth do not lie, but the doubts shows. But Avile Ert Rochen does not quite realize that and even if she does her demeanour does not quite show it as her nimble and practiced fingers smoothly works their way to yet another sketch on the notebook she keeps on her person at all time. Yes, a particularly art person, sharp mind would be quite stretching it but she does not fall behind her peers in the same age as her but her weak body does keep her from doing activities that might exert her greatly.

The train passes yet another bump on the track and with it her hand slip with the result being a line slashing their way across the page. A battle in a sense and one that she has been slowly losing.

The train sounds a whistle to warn of any stray animals that might have gotten onto the track but for dear young Avile, that might as well had been the whistle of triumph in this duel between locomotive and a fledgling artist. Without complain she closes and book and rest her head on the wooden bed set in the walls. "At least it's quiet in here. I should get some rest" A quiet rest indeed, one that the person slamming open her door does not quite care for.

"FOOD CART!" Chipper as always the lady manning the cart what with her bright gleaming smile that might just fill anyone with joy, everyone except those who wishes for rest right at that very moment. Passerby moving in the train corridor shoots curious glances at the commotion.

The noise early made poor Avile jumped quite a bit out of her skin like a cat being startled. The seller cares not for subtlety as she effortlessly grabs ahold of Avile's collar and very precisely utter the words into her ears. "Food cart, I sell food. Mostly snacks although occasionally on night routes I service light meals as well. I tell you some people just can't have enough of food but get a load of-"A scared, a very scared Avile in fact stopped the madwoman in her track with a meek question.

"Ca-can you let go of my collar? I can't breathe." A look of disappointment, dejection, rejection, and possibly a dash of old memories of a relationship that did not end well rises in the mind of the cart attendant. She lets Avile falls back down the wooden and barely padded bed with a protesting 'oof'.

"That's what he said when he let me know just how much I mattered to him, 'You are like the breathe I take every morning my dear~ I would cross rivers of blood and fire! Maybe even a fiery river of blood!' Oh henry you dick, I wish you get run over by a Tophat tank." She might have finally notice Avile with her collar all in a mess from the sudden assault and the poor girl is still confused as to what this stranger is doing in her cabin. "Oh," she laughs it off, a siren laugh that draws sailor away. "Sorry about that. I tend to get a little carried away. So what will it be? Scones, snacks, pies, beef on a stick or dare you order the Catilla Special?! I made it myself."

Avile gets up and face the fiery wall of energy before her. "If I buy a pie will you leave me alone?" Catilla [or if that is even her name from what Avile gathered from the short menu introduction.] gives her a wise sagely nod. In a span of a few seconds money was apparently exchanged and a good whole pie now rest on Avile's lap with the woman banging open more cabin door ahead of the one Avile is in and no doubt harassing more passenger. "Mother did say times are bad. I didn't expect it to be this bad." A pie on one hand and a pencil in another she gets to work sketching out the features and scene of the mysterious woman before yet another attack from the train derail that plan. She gives up, the appetizing looking pie before her begs to be eaten and savour by a well cultured person.

With curiousity [and hunger, mostly hunger] getting the best of her the pie was assaulted by a single bite that she chews with utmost care as to maintain her ladylike posture just as Angus had always wanted her to maintain.

 _A proper lady gets a proper send-off, and you might even get a boy to look your way if you keep it in you._

Wise sagely advice but what better way for her to enjoy her youth than to suddenly gag at the taste of ginger and onion wonderfully married in a pie crust. "Who puts ginger in pie?" on closer inspection there is also hardly any meat in it but rather the two main ingredient are practically brimming inside the baked crust she happens to get assaulted and forced to buy under duress. The pie was sadly set aside no doubt for the crows to feast on. "That lady was sure strange, I haven't met anyone like her in the years I lived in the estate. Now," She takes a glance around the barely-qualifies-as-a-room room. "If I only I remembered to bring a pack of cards. That might have assuage this boredom of mine if but a little."

"Hmm hmm, should have brought a few books along with you."

"True, I do have several inside of my trunk but they are in the cargo section. Hmm?"

The girl in red smiles and wave at her. Sitting in front of her. In her room.

"What are you people doing in my room?" Frankly, Avile is almost nearing the breaking point at this stage. All she ever wished for was some peace and quiet until she gets to the academy but fate had other plans. And fate did not bother asking first.

The girl speaks first, her ashen white hair tied in a neat ponytail sways from side to side as she do so. "Whew, you have no idea how fast I had to run to get to the platform. And when I get there you know what that conductor said to me? 'Terribly sorry miss but the train already left.' I mean horseshit you know. They can't even wait for a girl living way over the border to haul herself here? Services these days." Avile tries so hard to figure out the series of event that leads her to this.

There was a letter, something about a school, and then it all went into a blur. Somewhere along the way cakes were involved. "Oi nancy, you alright? Been staring at me since I got in. Also you gonna eat that?" The pie was offended that it would be gestured at by a finger. It was made of far more noble ingredient than to be an object that one girl decided to way her finger at. Surprise also comes over it when Avile lift it up and hands it over to the girl in red. "Thanks nancy, wow I'm starving. Hadn't had anything good since I started running yesterday. Oh ginger and onion not bad." She is the predator and the pie is her prey. It was over quickly. "Ah that was good. Yo what's your name? Can't have you be all stony over there. How am I going to spend 3 days in here if you keep giving me the silent treatment."

"2 days."

"What?"

Avile is still in daze but her face does regain some of the colour it had lost. "We left Barrimond yesterday so we only have 2 more days to get to our destination. And by we I mean me. Who are you?" Exasperation is showing but the code of being ladylike never left her mind so she steadies herself and regain her composure.

"I see, as to who am I." A small smile stops by bringing along its friend laughter. "I AM," The girl in red stands up and in the process her dress gets unfurl in its entirely revealing patterns consisting motif of bears, griffin, lions, and other such vicious creatures stamped onto it. Besides the dress there is also a chestguard securely strapped onto her chest with the overall style of her person combining the beauty and texture of fine Sonya silk with the elegance of Could dresses yet boldly enough she does not wear pants but rather a short skirt that ends right above knee. "I AM, to be honest I'm just some poor footman daughter who got an offer to study at an academy for free. Who am I to pass up that kind of offer eh? My brothers Can eat better without me around! Now who are you? Judging from your clothes you must be some rich girl, hey tell me what you people actually eat for dinner. I heard you actually eat meat every day is that true? I would kill for that kind of lifestyle."

"Avile Ert Rochen. I got an offer letter too and no my family isn't that well off if we are speaking honestly here." Red girl laughs it off. She pats Avile in the back while sorrowfully regaling tales of her poverty.

"I remember eating fish once a year. You should still feel lucky at least." Avile lets out a polite cough. Red girl takes it that she is choking to death so more pat on the back commence except applied with far more blunt force this time. "You can't die on me yet! I just met you, hang in there."

"I. Am. Fine. You just haven't told me what your name and what you are doing in my room that's all." Red girls draws a blank expression before realization finally dawns in.

"Oh right. Avile was it? The name is Makerov Siplet from the borders between Sonya and Could so don't be forgetting that now. As to what I'm doing in here well, I can't really afford a cab nor a train ticket in the first place so that's why I had to break into the train while its moving but it will be fine, we are headed the same place after all." The radiance of optimism coming from Makerov is truly awe inspiring. It is quite unfortunate that Avile finally loses it.

" _Dear mighty lord in the heaven. Please protect this sheep of yours from harm."_

"What are you saying? Speak up Vile! Where I come from people shout all the time. It's easier that way if I want to be straight with you."

 _My name is now Vile, lord help me._


End file.
